


Nude

by Lily_Uzumaki23



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-16
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-17 14:59:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2313674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lily_Uzumaki23/pseuds/Lily_Uzumaki23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because life never fails to happen when you're busy making plans. GrimmIchi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So. This is an older story of mine that got taken down from FF.Net way back when. I had fun writing it so I hope you have a fun time reading it!

**Nude**

_Grimmjow's POV:_

  
I am one of the biggest fucking skeptics the world has ever known. Yet fate is the only reason I can explain Kurosaki Ichigo and I don't mean that in a sweet, lovey dovey way. He makes my fucking blood boil, the way he looks at me with those eyes and that stupid smirk on his face, completely certain that he's got me eating right out of his fucking palm. Thing is, he does. He really does. It doesn't matter what I fucking say or do, I can't help it that I'm always after his ass. There's just something about him that doesn't let me stay away. The more I have of him, the more I want.

He knows that.

He straddles my hips as I sit at the edge of the king-sized bed of my dark hotel suite. His fingers bury themselves in my blue hair as if they had a life of their own. We kiss, he stands on his knees so he can tower over me. Tch, only time the little shit will ever be able to. I unbutton his white dress shirt in a matter of seconds, slip it off him and he doesn't stop kissing me as he flails his arms around to discard the garment completely. I grab his ass and squeeze mercilessly, meaning to show how much I want him. He moans into my mouth, kisses me more urgently, our lips still connected even when he pulls back to breathe in between, as if he never wants to stop feeling my mouth on his. Fuck he turns me on.

I tug at the button of his black slacks and a strangled sound of protest escapes him. Before I can do anything else, he stops kissing me and pulls back to stand in between my spread legs. His eyes burning with desire and his face flushed with arousal, one of his hands cups my face and the pad of his thumb traces a line from the tip of my upper lip and down to my chin. What a fucking tease. His other hand entangles itself in my hair again and forces my head back. He leans over and kisses me one more time before he slowly starts to back away from me. I don't sit still for two seconds before that damn force he has over me has me straining to go after him but he stops me.

I look on as he pulls out the chair of the desk not far from the king-sized bed and sets it just a couple of feet away from my seated form facing me. He undoes his pants and tosses them on some random corner of the massive room I was granted. The sight of him in dark green designer boxer briefs, tented at the front with a hard on makes me hard—or harder—in return. He sits on the chair, legs spread wide enough to put his fucking cock on display for me. His fingers toy with the curled mounds of dark orange hair just above the rim of his briefs before he reaches inside them. I have to swallow, my throat so fucking dry I almost cough. He smirks at me again, his eyes heavy-lidded as he strokes himself inside the fabric, staring at me, taunting me, a faint blush spread across his cheekbones. The wild beast within me is growling, lurking about the cage it’s contained in, ready to let lose. His chest is flushed and heaving, his nipples hard from how turned on he is. He licks his lips, bites the lower one to muffle the groan that spills from his lips.

I'm about to lose it.

The thing with Ichigo is he's always known he's got me wrapped around his finger, just like I know I make him do things he wouldn't otherwise do, things like jerking himself off for me like this. Strawberry here is quite the innocent prude. Not that I give a shit. I enjoy this too much, the way he looks self-conscious but so completely erotic at the same time, lost in his own fondling without a care in the world. He reaches down to cup himself through the outside of his underwear with his other hand, squeezing and playfully tugging on his balls. For someone so inexperienced and naive, he exhibits himself like a fucking whore that's been doing this for years. I reach to touch myself, my cock straining against my own pants and boxers, throbbing within the confines. I can't fucking stand it.

On his hands and knees. I drag him to bed and place him on the mattress on his hands and knees. I lie on my side next to him, kiss the back of his neck, breathe in his pure virile scent, two of my lubed fingers thrusting in and out of him while my other hand is milking the base of his cock.

"Uhn…" his voice echoes in the room and it makes a painful stab travel down my cock.

I curl my fingers, gently twist them, thrust further in, pull less back out while I wriggle my tongue inside his ear. It turns him on for some reason I haven't even begun to fathom. Then he reaches back and wraps a hand around my wrist, keeping my fingers right where they are. I snort into his ear.

"What? Ya like it here?" I mumble wriggling my fingers.

"Fuck…" His hold around my wrist tightens. Next thing I know, he's pulling my own fingers deep inside himself, abusing the bundle of nerves inside of him that I know makes him see stars.

I've had enough.

I lube myself up hastily and push inside of him 'til I'm buried to the hilt. He grabs on to the bed sheets, buries his face against the mattress to muffle the sounds of pain and pleasure he can't stop even if he wanted to. I pull on the hair at the back of his head while I hover completely over his body with a hand, engulfed in his tight warmth.

"Don't Kurosaki," I whisper hoarsely in his ear. He's clenching around me tight enough that it's painful and I roll my hips experimentally, making him back into me at the same time so he can meet my next feeble thrusts. "Ya know how much I like to hear ya scream." I smile against his skin, fully intent on letting him feel it. Then I let go of his hair to favor my weight by placing my hands at either side of his face on the bed. I move and the force of my next hard thrusts knock the breath out of him. Shivers rip through him as I pound into him, building up a rhythm that makes our skin slap wetly at a fast paced beat.

"Ah…" he moans lowly and I drive into him harder."Uhn…fuck Grimm…"

I grin into the back of his neck. "Mnn….that's more like it, Ichi…"

We didn't last long, we never do, which is why we always do this however many times we can 'til the break of dawn, 'til his alarm goes off or my phone rings and one of us has to go…

**.:. .:. .:.**

It’s funny how we met. We’re all kinds of fucking worlds apart and I’m not talking about age and social status only. Ichigo is a freshman in Karakura’s Community College in Japan, works part-time at a local restaurant and helps around at night at the Clinic his father owns. He’s got two sisters, fraternal twins, and his mother died when he was 6, mugged while she was walking home from doing groceries one night. Still, Ichigo is as close to normal as they come.

Me? Not so much.

I was born in Las Noches, Japan’s fucking Hollywood. My mother is a well-known actress, it really should’ve come as no surprise to anyone that I followed into her footsteps and became an actor myself. In Las Noches, you’re sort of fucking destined to that life. It’s either in front of the cameras bringing scripts to life or behind them writing and filming them. Finding a decent agency to sign you is just that much easier when the family is in the business. Decent agencies get you the better starring roles with the better directors and the better casts. Getting to the top is supposed to be the hard part but nothing is really that fucking hard when you’re born with everything you need to get there.

You would think someone like me would have the fucking world to offer to someone like Ichigo. A six feet tall (188cm) Japanese movie star with electric blue hair and striking sapphire eyes to match, you can go far and wide across Japan and you wouldn’t find a soul that didn’t know who I am. All directors want me for their leading roles and there aren't ad campaigns across Japan that I'm not requested for, in one simple word—I am the king of Las Noches. As fucking satisfying as that is to me, there’s always something I know I’ve been missing. When you grow up in riches like I did, you learn to fucking act on impulse and satisfy your every whim in order to fill that void. And yet it’s like feeding someone with a hole in the stomach, nothing is ever enough. Wasting money gets fucking dull and boring. You don’t realize there are things money really can’t fucking buy until you meet someone that hasn’t ever had those things.

That was Ichigo to me.

It’s four in the fucking morning when the shrill noise of my phone going off wakes me. I reach out of the cocoon of bed sheets the berry and I are buried in to the nightstand and flip the damn thing open.

“Ohayou Grimmjow-san!” My assistant. While I’m no stranger to the overly done greeting, four o’clock in the morning is fucking pushing it.

“Yo,” I say gruffly. This makes her turn up that annoyingly high tone of hers a couple of octaves.

“My apologies, I know you hate being woken up!” Damn straight. “But there has been a change in today’s schedule—” I yawn, bored already. There always is. “Urahara-san would like today’s filming to begin at 6 in the morning, not 8 o'clock like we had previously appointed. He wants to try and shoot the park scenes along with the restaurant scenes today, in case it needs more work, you have two days to work on them.”

I feel Ichigo stir next to me and support my upper body on my elbows so I can watch him. The idiot can sleep like a fucking log. I stare at his face, eyebrows relaxed from their usual frown, eyes shut in blissful peace and his mouth slightly open, a dried trail of drool smeared down the corner of his lower lip. I sneer in disgust before I let out a long breath. For some reason it’s not as revolting as it ought to be.

“Room service is on their way with breakfast,” the woman’s voice brings me back to the day’s events. “Please be downstairs in half an hour. I’ll make sure your transport picks you up at the main entrance.”

I flip the phone closed, ending the conversation.

The doorbell rings a few minutes later, just as I step out of the shower. I reach into my suitcase and pull up the first choice of pants I find so I can answer.  
“Good morning, sir,” the host says as I swing the double doors to the suite open. I snort at him disdainfully and he walks past me to place a tray full of at least three different kinds of breakfasts on the dining table within the suite. My assistant must’ve warned him about my bad-morning-person antics. I notice that next to the tray is the day’s paper. To my demise, there’s a picture of myself, full-blown on the cover. It isn’t the fact that I’m one of Japan’s most successful actors but the words written right next to the fucking picture the whole problem:

**“Grimmjow Jeagerjacques: The World’s Most Desirable Bachelor.”**

There’s a lot of things I wish Ichigo knew: that I wouldn’t care if Aizen decided not to renew my contract if I went public with the truth about us, that I’m not interested in working for someone against the nature of who I am, that there are other agencies with just as much leverage over good directors and leading roles as Aizen. I know none of them will convince Ichigo. He refuses to be a part of what I do, much less be a reason for me to change what I do. He hates the world I come from and the lifestyle I inescapably have to live and it is exactly what he’ll have to fucking endure if I take us public.

Figures. The one person I have bent the fuck over backwards for doesn't want more than what I willingly always give. I thought it was easy to impress someone when you’re fucking famous, only Kurosaki Ichigo remains unimpressionable to this day; he still has no clear idea of who I am but he doesn’t ask either and I don’t tell him. I find freedom in his ignorance, however, there isn't someone I have to be around him and perhaps that's the one fucking reason I keep coming back.

It's the one fucking reason I stay, at least.

 **End of Chapter 1**. Next up, Ichigo's POV.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It only seemed fair to me, since Grimm has one part, to give Ichi a part as well. Hope you like this one!

**Nude**

_Ichigo's POV:_

I wake up to the sound of indistinct voices coming from the room right next to the one I'm lying in. I sit up and the bed sheets pool around my waist as I rub sleep from my eyes with a hand. It's dark outside, 4:16 in the morning when I turn to look at the clock on the nightstand. I know for sure Grimmjow's got a change of schedule. With his career, there always is. Not that I was hoping to wake up curled up next to him or anything like that. I rather wake up to an empty bed like I did just now, saves all the morning awkwardness and embarrassment, only I thought I'd get to be with him at least once more before he has to go and I don't see him again until he shoots somewhere near Karakura. It could be a whole year until then.

The thing with Grimmjow is he turned my world upside down from the start, rocked it, flipped it inside out and then made me walk in it. I didn't know who he was when he showed up at my dad's Clinic. I don't know much about show business in general, only had a vague understanding that Urahara—our next door neighbor—was sort of a big-shot in the movie world. The only reason I know Urahara is because he's had an arrangement with my father for years to do all his movie's cast and crew clinical tests before they start shooting. They can't start filming movies until they're certain all personnel are in good health. In exchange for that favor, Urahara pays a hefty sum and we take the whole day to do clinical work on everyone.

When Grimmjow walked in my testing room, my heart stopped for about three seconds before it started pounding in my ribcage. He was wearing a white cotton tee with dark jeans and a pair of worn out grey Converse, making him the most dressed down movie star to come do clinical thus far...and by far the most attractive. I noticed he was tense as he put down his black leather jacket on the examination table. He turned and leaned against the edge of the table next with his arms crossed on his chest as if trying not to touch anything around him. It was the most amusing thing I had seen throughout the day, a man so tall with such a badass expression on his face and such a confident stride with his chin held up so high, trying to be small. It was like a wild beast had been brought indoors. He was scared. Something about medical rooms scared him.

"Grimmjow…Jeagerjaques?" I looked up from my clipboard and locked eyes with him, waiting for confirmation that he was, in fact, the patient I had just called. He just stared at me and that's when I noticed his eyes were a very rare bright blue color that strangely enough matched his equally rare bright blue hair. I flushed a little, I know I did. It's inevitable to wonder whether he's a natural blue when you see him. And yes, he is.

I went on to explain the nature of the tests we were going to be running on him for the next hour and a half, how these included physicals and blood work and then I asked him if he was allergic to anything. He snorted at me, something I came to know as a habit of his later on.

"What the shit are ya kid? 15?" I could feel my brows pulling together into a frown without much effort at all.

"I'm 19, asshole." We paused and stared at each other again. We knew, we just knew, this is where we started.

It feels degrading to say that Grimm had me bent over the examination table within half an hour but at that moment it felt anything but.

"Ya' look fuckin' hot in this," he pulled at the white lab coat my dad forced me to wear in order to look professional around the movie cast and the people we were running clinical work on for the day.

He didn't take it off me, just lowered my pants along with my briefs enough to expose my naked backside to him. He spread my butt-cheeks wide and ran a thumb through my dry puckered entrance feather-lightly. I could feel my hole twitching at the teasing and I blushed full force when I looked back over my shoulder and caught him staring with heavy lidded eyes.

The exam room was small and happened to have the med cabinet right above the examination table I was leaning on. I reached up with a hand and pulled out the first tube of ointment-like substance I could find. I…have a thing for getting fingered and I let Grimmjow know as much by handing over the tube and propping myself on my elbows on the exam bed so my ass was higher in the air and he could do the work. He didn't waste time. Two seconds and two of his fingers were in me, spreading me far and wide.

I don't have a lot of experience when it comes to this kind of thing. I've only had one boyfriend and we lasted all through high school before he broke up with me since he was leaving to study abroad. I've fooled around with other guys after him, I _am_ in college, but nothing I've ever tried or been tried on could compare to the expertise that Grimmjow showed just fingering me. He would push his fingers down to the knuckles inside of me and pull back so torturously slow.Until he felt me involuntarily jump and shiver, that's how he knew he'd found the bundle of nerves that could turn the straightest of men gay if rightfully stimulated. He pumped brutally fast, abusing the spot and making me see stars behind tightly shut eyelids.I'm stubbornly quiet when it comes to sex but even I couldn't hold in the sounds of pleasure that kept escaping me under Grimmjow's ministrations. I don't think anyone could.

The foreplay didn't last long. I was painfully aroused, my hard-on was pressed against the edge of the exam bed, insistently twitching and throbbing, still untouched. I knew Grimm was touching himself, I could hear the sound of skin slapping as he thrust his fingers into me. The thought of it alone made me smirk and groan to myself at the same time. Because, fuck, was that a sight.

When he entered me, I felt the initial pain that comes along with being stretched impossibly. Even if I had been fooling around, I hadn't been penetrated in a while and Grimmjow was kind of big. At that moment I realized I hated that we were doing this so informally. I didn't expect nor want a romantic dinner that led to this but I wanted to be able to touch him and see his face and bury my fingers in his hair while he was so far inside me. This was a quickie. We were both still pretty much dressed and Grimmjow was pounding into me hard and fast, trying to reach point blank in the least amount of time. It was working, release was building up on me with the force of a fucking train wreck. I was embarrassed I might jizz prematurely.

"Fuck yer tight," he whispered against the back of my neck, his grip on my hips tightening as he pounded harder into me. I tried to hold on tight to the other end of the table I was hovering over of so the sanitary paper we use to cover the table for hygienic purposes didn't rustle so much and people around us wouldn't figure out what we were up to in here. I was panting hard, strangling noises of pleasure into one of my hands. Fuck, it felt so good.

"Ahn…" I couldn't hold it as the dew cap of his cock insistently pushed into my prostrate. "Ah, ah, ah, ah…fuck…uhn…Grimmjow…" I rolled my hips into his as he thrust his into mine. Grimmjow moves really good. He has a lot of stamina too. His fucking didn't slow or become sloppy in a good maybe 20 minutes we were at it.

We couldn't last long. He released inside of me and I could feel his seed filling me up and spurting out my hole once he'd loaded me full. He stood straight and pulled me with him, holding me against his chest with a hand on my chest. He grabbed my pulsating erection with his other hand, glowing red almost purple, screaming for attention and jerked me fast from base to tip. I was going to warn him about the exam bed, how it'd be preferable if we didn't get it stained, but he seemed to be a smart one and put his palm in front of the head of mine so I came into his hand instead.

It took a while to get cleaned up and dressed after we were done with our tryst. One of the nurses came by for a routinely "check up" on the patient and make sure everything was alright. She caught Grimmjow buckling his pants and blushed beet red when he gave her devilish grin.

"Stop terrorizing the nurses," I said after she left and Grimmjow smirked sexily at me.

"Want me to terrorize you?" he asked and I glared at him. Fucking sly bastard.

It was hard to tell what exactly had made the nurse blush like she did. She couldn't have guessed what Grimm and I had been up to, I had cleaned up after myself and the room rather well, changed the paper covers on the bed and put away the tube of antibiotic ointment we'd used as makeshift lube. Perhaps she assumed I had just finished the "physical" part of the clinical testing we were supposed to be doing on the movie cast and had only caught Grimmjow at a bad moment. At least I hoped that was it.

I started the physical on Grimmjow right away, knowing our time had considerably shortened due to previous activity. Grimmjow was nervous when I checked his eyes with the laser diode and checked his ears with the earcheck device we own and checked his throat with the small lantern we use. I don't know why he was so stiff but as helping assistants to doctors we are instructed to give edgy patients conversation so they relax and calm down. I told him about my job at the local restaurant, about the shitty pay and horrible hours, about school, about my family, my fraternal twin sisters and my crazy father, about my deceased mother. He'd eased up somewhat on me by the time I was finishing the physical.

When another nurse walked in to take him to do all the blood work, he became just as tense as he had been before he'd walked into my exam room. I sighed. So much for that. When he left, I sat on the nearest chair and let out a long breath, physically deflating along with it. I couldn't believe what I had just done. I ran a hand through my hair and looked around the now quiet and empty room.

I couldn't believe I had just done that.

Within a week I'd pretty much put the incident behind me. After I left the clinic that day, I researched Grimmjow on the web and came to the realization that he was not only a movie star but Japan's most successful movie star. I was impressed with the number of roles he'd done at his age (he was 25) and the number of awards he'd won for Best Actor (that would be 4). It was no wonder he was so critically acclaimed and so widely known. I was okay with pretending what happened between us hadn't happened at all but anyone who knew Grimmjow well knew he wouldn't be...

 **End of Chapter 2**. Coming up next, last chapter and it is also written in Ichigo's POV. Thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops! Totally missed the deadline for this chapter. It was supposed to be up yesterday but work has made my brain scattered, I'm so stressed out lately D: Either way, last installment. Thank you so much for joining in on the ride and I hope you had fun reading my story!

**Nude**

_Ichigo's POV:_

Grimmjow laid me on the dinner table his hotel suite had come with, the different kinds of breakfasts brought in for him soon after his change of schedule had been announced completely forgotten. He ripped off the clothes I’d worn to work yesterday, and had redressed in this morning after I’d taken a shower. Next thing I know, he’s got my dick far into his mouth and he’s sucking me hard and good, lulling me into a state of hot and blissful nirvana. I can do nothing more than tangle my fingers in his electric blue hair and thrust into his mouth so he can take me further and further in. He holds my hips down with bruising force and I hear myself make an embarrassingly whining noise in complaint that I know has got me blushing up to my ears. That’s before he proceeds to suck the life out of me. Fuck, I want him. Now.

Grimmjow came by the Clinic every single day after our…er…after we first met. He’d complain about aches he didn’t have and fake symptoms from illnesses he’d endured in his lifetime. The nurses never once figured it was a scam. He’s an actor, a really, really good actor, so fooling everyone basically came with the territory. One thing he learned about me annoyingly quickly was that I was easy to embarrass. In my defense, the way he asked for “Doctor Kurosaki” would’ve made a prostitute blush. It’s what the tone implied along with that sultry look he gave me every time I was in near sight, like he was ready to jump me then and there. He didn’t own up to that when I called him on it, of course, but he didn’t have to. That fiendish grin of his gives him away always.

Our “private quarters” became the trailer truck that he had been assigned to in order to rest in between filming his shots and the hotel room he returned to when he was done shooting and called it a day. Shutting the door closed, locking it and getting naked became routine. Grimmjow fucking me into pretty much any hard surface inside those rooms became an everyday thing. This went on for about ten weeks into filming. I don’t know what got into me. I’m normally not the type to go all the way with flings, not in a public place, much less while on the job. Grimmjow just had this monumental pull on me. When I was with him, all I wanted was for him to give it to me hard and good. When I wasn’t with him all I could think about was Grimmjow giving it to me hard and good. I knew it was fucked up. I knew it wasn’t right. I knew if my father found out he’d be forever disappointed in me and I knew if we were to be discovered I’d be in all kinds of deep shit.

I just couldn’t bring myself to care.

This was too good to let the fact that it was morally wrong bother me.

His phone is ringing and as usual when he’s deep into us, he pays it no mind. The thought that someone from the set might be waiting for him fleetingly crosses my mind but it disappears into nothingness when Grimm gives me a particularly hard suck. A rule I made for myself from the beginning to try and not get too involved with Grimmjow was to stay out of his business. This isn’t a relationship. This is casual, convenient, conventional sex and I intend to keep it that way by all means. I wasn’t born in his world and I don’t want to be a part of it. Life is complicated enough as it is for me to deal with a frenzy of media spectacle on the side. Besides, who wants a relationship where you can only see your boyfriend maybe a week or two out of an entire year?

His phone rings again, the high-pitched noise bringing me out of my reverie of pure pleasure. I let lose a curse as he playfully sucks and nips on one of my really hard balls while he rubs my nipple with both his index and middle fingers. I spread my legs wider and arch into his touch, hoping I’m saying I want him to stop teasing me and fuck me with my body. I know he gets the message.

The phone rings again and my eyes snap open. I give the ceiling an evil glare of death, letting out a frustrated growl.

“Are you gonna get that?” I ask in (what Grimmjow likes to call) my bedroom voice.

Grimmjow pulls back, smashes his hand on the phone nearby on the table before he picks it up and flips it open.

“I’m busy,” he declares angrily into the phone.

I stare down at him, with his head in between my spread wide legs, my hard cock leaking precum almost poking him in the chin. I feel a rush of blood travel to my head and my cheeks and ears start feeling warmer by the second. I’m not easily embarrassed. Anyone would’ve been if they had been subjected to a similar situation.

“I’m fucking my boyfriend.” A pause. Did he just call me his boyfriend? “I’ll call you when he’s done fucking cumming.”

The person on the other end of the line didn’t take well to his response (I’m not surprised). He hangs up and throws the phone over his shoulder. I hear the thud that lets us know it landed somewhere in the carpet of the living room right next to the dining room of the suite. I sit up and stare down at Grimmjow and he looks up at me completely at a loss.

“What the hell was that?” I ask and he frowns at me.

“What the hell was what?” he asks gruffly. I snort—a habit I seem to have picked up from him.

“You just called me your boyfriend,” I put a lot of emphasis on the word, for good measure. He shrugs.

“So?”

I frown at him.I cannot believe he could care a shit less about giving whatever it was that was happening between us a label. A name. Doesn’t he know the huge difference it makes?

“So…I’m not your boyfriend,” I clarify.I can see the corner of his lip lifting and literally curling. He’s smirking. The bastard is smirking at me.

“What'd you want me to say? I’m fucking our set doctor’s son, been fucking him for close to three months exclusively, but he’s not my boyfriend.”

I blink. Once. He snickers.

“That’s too long, Kurosaki. I wanted to finish you off,” he reaches out and curls his hand around my now half-hard length, leans in to kiss the head of it, then he strokes me slowly and patiently. I still his movement.

“Stop.”

I’m surprised he listens to me. He never usually does, not when we’re so far into foreplay. By this point he’s not thinking logically anymore but his dick dictates every action he makes. He surprises me even more when instead he lets his elbows rest casually on my thighs while he slings his arms around me, his hands holding my waist gently. He’s got me trapped and the position he’s gotten me trapped in, naked with my dick poking me in my stomach and starting to moisten the table below me, makes my ears prickle and my cheeks burn. Fuck, _this_ is embarrassing.

“Don’t be a woman about it,” he says, staring up at me with those eyes that make all these different emotions stir up a storm in me.

I want him to fuck me, I want to leave. I want to stay, I want to say yes. I want him one last time and run away. I want to come back and have him again and again. One thing that remains a constant in the turmoil going on inside my head: I don’t want this to stop. But there’s so many things that go into being with Grimmjow Jeagerjaques. My life can’t handle it right now.

“We wouldn’t see each other every day,” I say, staring off to the side. “My life is here and yours isn’t. Yours is all over the world.”

“We can figure it out,” he says, standing in between my spread legs. He reaches to me to cup my face in his hand, runs a thumb through my lips and I feel my resolve slowly melting away when those azure eyes of his lock with mine. We’re…settling down. Are we settling down?

“My ex-boyfriend and I,” I start, “we broke things off because neither of us was willing to do the long distance thing. I don’t want to—”

“Your ex-boyfriend didn’t have a private jet and all the money it takes to fly it across the world every day just to see you,” he kisses me and I feel like something’s caught in my throat that won’t let me breathe right. Is he seriously willing to make that big of a sacrifice?

“Besides,” he whispers against my lips and I feel my eyes slowly drooping. I’m falling into him, spiraling out of control, flying high and crashing down, tumbling past speed limit, into him. “I’ve been acting since I was six. It’s about damn fucking time I take a break.”

The rest, as they say, was history.

Two months later, filming for Urahara’s movie was done. Grimmjow called a massive press conference soon after the premiere to announce he’d be taking a year break and to politely ask for privacy from paparazzi while he was on leave. He answered all questions truthfully, explaining how he wasn’t enjoying making movies the way he had in the past because of how overly exhausted he was. When asked if he remained single, his answer was: “yes.”

Don’t get me wrong, I did accept the terms of how our relationship would work. I just wasn’t ready to be introduced into his world yet. He wanted to tell all of Japan that he was with me so the press wouldn’t have a field day with us if they found out before he ever made a public statement about it. I asked him to at least give me a year to get used to us.

“I’m your boyfriend now, ya know?” I said as he kissed me to sleep after pounding me into the mattress of his hotel suite hard and good, following the press conference.

“So?” he suspended himself above me in a push up form.

“So I can break up with you any time I want now,” I stated simply, bending my arms below my head so they could work as makeshift pillow. He snorted.

“That a threat?” he snarled and I smirked.

“It is if you’re still thinking of going public about us,” I admitted. He lowered his pelvis into mine, pressed our groins together and rolled his hips slow and long and so hard my head almost hit the bedpan. I held in the moan that threaten to spill from me at the blissful sensation. Then he lowered his lips to my ear.

“I’ll teach you to threaten me,” he whispered. I tangled my fingers in blue electric locks of hair at the nape of his neck.

“You promise?” I whispered back and he groaned before he pulled back so he could look me in the eye.

“Yer gonna pay for that ya little shit,” he said warningly and I smirked.

I didn’t know what I was getting into but I assure you, even if I did right this instant, the next instant I wouldn’t. With Grimmjow you just never know. I just hope whatever it is turns out good.

 **The End.** Thank you everyone! Hope you had fun reading!


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